


Endless Race

by leet911



Category: Initial D
Genre: F/F, One-Sided Attraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-08-28
Updated: 2003-08-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:42:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22034251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leet911/pseuds/leet911
Summary: Backstory about the champions of Usui.  Sayuki's thoughts about Mako."Mostly I raced for the pure joy of the ride.  And for Mako. Always for Mako."
Relationships: Sato Mako/Sayuki
Kudos: 3





	Endless Race

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in 2003 (damn I feel old). Just porting my stuff over to AO3.

* * *

In her mind, I don't think there was ever a being more divine than Takahashi Ryousuke. I was second, possibly even a close second, but he was always first. It made me jealous. Incredibly jealous.

Mako had always been interested in cars. We both were, although at first she was much more into it. Admittedly, our fascination began with her desire to start driving. I never really cared much about cars, one way or the other, but Mako was my best friend, and whatever she wanted, I wanted for her. So we started reading up on techniques, and watching races. We would stay out late some nights, and watch the street racers barrel down Usui. There was some sort of power to the whole experience, and I know that my love of racing did not come only from Mako. Part of it was me as well, but my ambition and drive came from her.

I remember, shortly after we both obtained our licenses, we actually got to see Takahashi Ryousuke race. He had been less well known then, but he was a budding star, and nearly everyone already recognized his talent. It was a circuit race, and Mako had managed to get us tickets to the event. At the time, the track had seemed rather daunting. After all, driving was still somewhat new to me. As the race started, Mako's eyes never left the course. I could see the admiration and dedication in her gaze. I could see the absolute fanatical devotion she held for this unattainable street god. On that day, I vowed that I would learn to drive better than him, that I would become the greatest racer in all of Japan. I promised myself that I would make Mako forget about the great Takahashi Ryousuke.

My wish never came true.

A few weeks later, I tried driving Usui's downhill in my father's car. Slowly at first, just to get a feel for the car and the corners, and then I pushed myself a little faster. I was nowhere near as fast as the local street racers, but it was a start. Those first few times, I tackled the mountain alone and taught myself basic drifting techniques. All too eager to show off, I invited Mako to come with me a few days later.

I did the first run, and by the time we arrived at the bottom of the mountain, Mako's face clearly betrayed her excitement. She begged me to let her try, just once. I obliged, even if it was my father's car. We climbed back to the top and switched seats. During the short ride down, I fell in love with her all over again.

She was better than me, practice or not, and she would improve. I was never envious of her ability though, I admired her too much. When she held the steering wheel in her hands, Mako became a different person. Not only was she good with the vehicle, but she also had confidence in her skills. When she drove, her concentration peaked, and her intensity was almost painful. But when she drove, she forgot about her life outside of the car, she forgot about everything beyond this one joy ride. When Mako took control of the car, there was no more Takahashi Ryousuke, no more worries, no more dreams; there was only now. There was nothing but the two of us, together, flying down the mountainside in manic euphoria.

I became addicted to that feeling. Not the rush from the thrilling ride, but rather the feeling that there was nothing in the world beyond Mako and I. When I rode next to her, every pressure would subside, every stress would fade away. She drove with untainted natural talent. She knew which line to take, how much to brake, how far to steer. I became her guide then. I let her concentrate on technique while I pointed out obstacles, sequences of the track, changes in the car. We became a team. And to me, that meant more than anything else.

I would still practice on my own, every now and then, if only to keep up with Mako. I couldn't risk letting her get too far ahead of me; I couldn't risk losing her respect. Even if she was better than me. And she was.

A few months later, we put together all the money we had saved up and bought a blue Sil-080. The first night we drove that car is still branded in my mind. I did a few test runs, just to warm-up, then I let Mako drive. I think that was the first night I ever saw her drive seriously. She tackled the corners with reckless abandon, showing me that my driving skills were really nothing compared to hers. That night, I didn't want to leave the road.

I remember looking over at Mako as she pulled to a stop at the base. We were both breathing heavily, not from any physical exertion, but purely from the exhilaration of the drive. Both of us were sweating, seatbelts pressing us firmly into our seats, yet I had never felt more alive in my entire life. Gradually, Mako released her iron grip on the steering wheel and glanced over at me as well. There was something in her eyes. Some glint that I had never seen before, but I had always known was hidden inside her. The act of driving brought out a new part of Mako, something that made her even more impossibly beautiful to me.

I don't know what happened that night, but something passed between us. At first, I didn't understand what had changed, but I think... I think she realized then. I think she realized just how much she meant to me. But even at that, there was something holding me back. No matter how much I just wanted to tell her how I felt, somehow I knew that she didn't feel quite the same way about me. Somehow, I knew that I was still only second best. Yet she understood now, and she didn't say anything about it. She didn't yell, didn't scream, didn't run. She just sat there, in total silence. Calmly, she put the car in gear and we set off again.

Not towards home.

We took the car back up to Usui's peak and watched the stars drift by in the heavens above us. Even in silence, I found comfort in her presence. For the first time, my usually outspoken self had trouble finding words. As the night dragged on, and dawn drew nearer, the tension kept rising. At one point, I couldn't stand it anymore. I just got out of the car and started to walk away.

Mako followed me, of course, silently trudging along behind me without ever calling out.. She hung a few steps back, respectfully giving me space, but shadowing my every movement. The car was no longer in sight when I finally turned around to consider her.

"Why are you still here?"

She looked at me then, in that strange apologetic way of hers. "I'm sorry." She whispered, the breeze carrying the words to my ears.

I took a step towards her, and in the faint starlight, I saw that she was crying.

"I'm sorry, Sayuki." She repeated. "I can't."

My arms found their way around her, and I pulled her into a hug. "Don't be sad. It's okay... Really." For her sake, I tried to smile, and even though I couldn't see myself, I'm sure it was a half-hearted attempt at best. Nonetheless, Mako smiled back, as though my words had offered some comfort to her. It wasn't true. I wasn't "okay", not in the least, but if it made her feel better, then I could pretend. I could pretend we were just friends and nothing more.

It was a while before I released her, somewhat reluctantly. I think she saw the reluctance. I think she saw how hurt I was even though I hid it well. We had been friends for so long there was hardly anything we could hide from each other. Even this secret, this deepest secret of mine, didn't really last all that long. Mako found out, and not because anyone told her. She sees through me sometimes. Sometimes I wonder how utterly transparent I am to her. I wish I could read her that well. I wish that right now, I could decipher her emotions. I wish I could know what she was thinking.

She took a step back as we broke apart, glancing down at her watch. "Maybe we should be heading back. The sun's going to be up soon."

"We're already up here. Let's stay a little longer and watch the sun rise." I felt a slight tinge of guilt for suggesting it, but I just wanted to spend some more time with her. I worried that, after that night, our friendship wouldn't be the same. I was a afraid that we would lose something out there, something intangible, but something that would break us apart.

I should have had more faith in Mako.

Perhaps I loved her, but that would not come between our friendship. Mako was better than that. So that morning, we sat in our new car as the sun rose over Usui.

After that day, I changed. Knowing that I had no chance with her altered my outlook on life. I turned to racing. I immersed myself fully in the street racer culture. I became an excellent driver in my own right, but Mako was always slightly ahead. As a team, however, we were even better.

Within a year, we were known as the fastest on Usui. And girls at that! More than one would be challenger went home disgraced. Not that it was our intention, but a lot of other racers just couldn't accept our superiority.

So we raced endlessly. Night after night, we would twist our way down Usui's curves. Sometimes, there would be an opponent for us to battle, but mostly, mostly I raced for the pure joy of the ride. And for Mako. Always for Mako.

When she sat at the wheel, she became a different person. When she was driving, I could pretend that she loved me the same way I loved her. I trusted her with my life. I trusted that she would not get us both killed in an accident. I trusted her skills completely. And she trusted, that I would guide her correctly, that I would give her the best possible course. This belief we had in each other's abilities, it was wonderful. In a sense, it was always there. We were best friends after all, but this experience just made it all that much more concrete.

I always felt a little sad after a race, regardless of the outcome. I hated feeling guilty for just being so close to her. But I would never let her know, not in words. She didn't need to know, it would just burden her. It would be better if this never came between us. Whatever she had gleaned from our encounter that first night, let that be all. Let her think whatever she wants to think. We're still friends, and that's all that counts.

For me, there is no hope. But I don't mind. I'm resigned to my fate. Being friends, isn't so bad. And I have shared something special with her anyway. As long as I can sit beside Mako as she tackles the course, I'm happy. I don't care if I have to pretend when I'm around her. I can still laugh my own jokes, I can still point out cute guys to her, I can still help her chase her dreams. If she's happy, I guess I can be as well.

For now, let's just take this one day at a time. For now, I'll just keep wishing that the race never ends.

* * *


End file.
